‘BUY,’ ‘Sell,’ What’s the margin on that?’ and ‘Borrow in yen and invest in bonds.’ Just a few of the things I say while running a major business from Wetherspoons.
Yes, world-leading CEOs such as myself and Stephen Bartlett have long since moved beyond the conventional office. We’re agile, flexible, based anywhere, and I’ve found the best value rent in town to be my local ‘Spoons.
I’m there every morning at 9am with my headset, barking ‘Just an orange juice please,’ knowing I need to be sharp if I’m to corner the market in pork futures.
It’s a positive advantage to have no music in the professional wood-panelled backdrop of The Friar Penketh, which looks like a boardroom if you angle your laptop screen correctly. But banning speaker calls?
Doesn’t Tim Martin realise I’m running a multinational business? I can’t do that in silence. Sometimes you have to call San Francisco and give them a proper bollocking for not rezoning those land parcels.
Move me on? I’m ordering a steady stream of soft drinks, maybe a pint or two at lunch to relieve the pressure, perhaps a double rum and coke or two when the Nasdaq opens to steady my nerves. It’s me keeping this place profitable.
See sense, Wetherspoons. Make an exception for professionals like myself who make your pubs an attractive destination catering to high-income consumers in top tax brackets. Reverse this foolish ban.
And to those nay-sayers claiming my headset’s not connected, my laptop isn’t on and I’m hammered by noon shouting ‘fax the contracts’ at a blank screen, you just don’t understand business. I’m a go-getting entrepreneur. Another Stella, please.
